Well, he might …

That looks a lot like fudge to me.
(We’ve been amusing ourselves today attempting to recite lines from his films in our impeccable Cornish accents. This is what one is reduced to when it rains and rains and rains on holiday!)
August 21, 2008 at 8:56 pm (activities, bwahaha, culture, damn lies, food, i'm cold, stupid puns, weather, yummers)
Well, he might …

That looks a lot like fudge to me.
(We’ve been amusing ourselves today attempting to recite lines from his films in our impeccable Cornish accents. This is what one is reduced to when it rains and rains and rains on holiday!)
August 5, 2008 at 12:09 pm (culture, extremely funny jokes about shakespeare, yummers)
I might as well get in with this quick before the reviews of Hamlet at the RSC come out and everyone starts talking about staging and interpretation and all that. I propose to stick with what’s really important. Namely, the cheap (or rather, not so cheap) thrills available for those lucky enough to get their mitts on a ticket.

First off, let me apologise profusely for not providing photographic tummy proof. Immediately before the performance started there was the usual sonorous announcement about turning off mobile phones, followed by a severe warning against taking photographs or filming. (Not that I would, anyway – after all, I was raised in the jungle by Culture Vultures.) In addition, I’d had an email from the RSC just a few days earlier, rather snitty in tone, advising that actors would only be signing official RSC programmes and merchandise and that anyone selling their tickets on Ebay would be hung, drawn and quartered – or words to that effect. You’ll just have to take my word for it.
Anyway, it’s a modern dress production, and all the better for it. In addition, Tennant’s delivery is so naturalistic and contemporary, the meaning of what he says is absolutely crystal clear for about 90 per cent of the play. There were moment when I felt he substituted animation for intensity, but overall I thought it was a great performance. He managed to make most of the jokes genuinely funny! No small achievement with Shakespeare. Interestingly, the big soliloquys went for almost nothing, being delivered without the huge “air quotes” they normally get, and woven seamlessly into the rest of the text. I thought this was a good thing but I’ll bet there are plenty of theatre buffs who’ll feel cheated.
Now – to the tummy. In jeans, t-shirt and bare feet, Tennant makes a believable 30 year old. He’s very thin so the jeans slip down a little and the t-shirt flaps around, as he dashes around the darkly mirrored stage. When it first appeared, there was an audible gasp from the front row ladies (who also leapt to their feet and screamed at the end when Tennant took his bow – I feared they might throw their undies … no warnings against that before the play started). By the end, I think we all felt we’d had our money’s worth – even those who’d paid squillions on Ebay, probably.
The production – Out of 10, I’d give it an easy 11.
The tummy? Ditto. Flat, well-muscled, pale as befits a Dane. He wears jeans very well. (Of course, all of this did nothing for me beyond the purely aesthetic – for reasons I’ll be explaining soon. Yes, it’s another theory. I’m afraid.)
August 5, 2008 at 10:43 am (activities, bwahaha, culture, damn lies, gifts you can't live without, making my fortune, weather)
Yes, it’s most awfully tough. So much so that, sometimes, when the kids are safely at school, and sensible people are at the office, I just HAVE to go out for a walk with my friend, Marie. In the Cotswolds. On our own. In all that countryside.

It’s hell.

Particularly the path between Stanton and Stanway. Gruelling, just gruelling.

It gets even tougher when you finally reach Stanway House.
And it’s not sunny vistas the whole way, y’know. You have to go through woods carpeted with wild garlic.
Well someone’s got to do it. Those hills won’t walk themselves.
August 3, 2008 at 7:28 pm (Uncategorized)
Sure on this Shining Night
setting by Morten Lauridsen
(lyrics taken from ‘A Death in the Family’ by James Agee)
Sure on this shining night
Of starmade shadows round,
Kindness must watch for me
This side the ground.The late year lies down the north.
All is healed, all is health.
High summer holds the earth.Hearts all whole.
Sure on this shining night I weep for wonder wand’ring far alone
Of shadows on the stars.